


The Third Ingredient

by deanstrenchcoatangel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-08
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-01-15 00:51:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1285120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deanstrenchcoatangel/pseuds/deanstrenchcoatangel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kevin discovers exactly why it was Castiel's grace that Metatron needed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Translation

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first multi-chapter fanfic! I hope you enjoy!

“Sam! Dean! Cas! Get down here! I found something!” Kevin’s voice rang out throughout the whole of the bunker, echoing off walls. Within a few moments, the three men had gathered around the long, wooden table.

“What’s up, Kev?” Dean asked, leaving against the edge of the table.

“Okay, so I’ve been working on translating these tablets, you know?” He waited until everyone nodded to continue. “Well, I think I may be close to finding out how to shove the angels back into heaven.” He skimmed over it quickly, working his way down the tablet.

“See here? It’s listing the ingredients for how to kick them out. First: the product of a past love between an angel and a human; which was that Nephilim chick. Then: the bow of a cherubim, gifting humans with love. Lastly: the grace of an angel who is-” Kevin stopped, eyes widening. He looked up at Cas, almost embarrassed.

“What? An angel who is what?” Dean demanded.

“Nothing.” Kevin said quickly, avoiding his eyes.

“Kevin.. An angel who is what?” Sam interjected, his tone more gentle.

“The last ingredient is the grace of an angel who is in love with a human.” He took a deep breath, glancing between Cas and Dean. Cas gripped the chair in front of him so hard that his knuckles turned white. The corner on Dean’s mouth raised, and he gave Kevin a disbelieving look.

“What?” He asked slowly. All eyes fell on Dean, the group knowing exactly who that human was. “Cas?” Castiel looked up at him with a pitiful expression. “Is that true?” He asked, his expression stony. He didn’t answer, only turned and left the room.

“Dean?” Sam asked cautiously.

“He’s in love with me? No. He can’t be. I mean.. He-he's an angel! And I’m.. Well, I’m me. Why me?” He pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his eyes. “Did you two know?” He suddenly snapped, looking between the two.

“Kind of…” Sam mumbled.

“He told you?!?”

“Not exactly,” Sam placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder, effectively calming him. “Look, he didn’t exactly say it, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist. The guy couldn't keep his eyes off of you.”

“Pretty much everyone knew. We just assumed you knew, and didn’t care.” Kevin cut in.

“I didn’t care?” Dean asked angrily. “What sort of a dickhead do you think I am?”

“Well, you-you aren’t exactly the touchy-feely type, Dean.” Sam said, his voice not unkind.

“Whatever.” He stood, shoving his chair back. “I’m going to talk to Cas.”


	2. Too Little, Too Late

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had some fun writing this! Thanks for all the support on the last chapter! Thank you for all the kudos, bookmarks, and comments! Keep commenting and whatnot! It motivates me to write more, and keeps the ideas flowing! Enjoy!

Dean searched high and low for Cas, checking his room, the living room, the dungeon, everywhere, but he still came up short. For some reason, Castiel didn’t want to be found. Although Dean thought he could understand. If the roles had been reversed, Dean wasn’t sure what he would do. Run, maybe? He honestly had no idea. He knew one thing for sure though, he wouldn’t let Cas leave. Not again. He had already made that mistake once, and he knew, more than anything, it wouldn’t happen again. 

Throughout the entirety of the situation, all Dean could think about was how he felt for Castiel. Did he have feelings for the fallen angel? Or was everything platonic? A storm raged within himself. How did the hunter feel for the angel? He didn’t want to have feelings for Castiel. He knew that he could never deserve him, no matter what he did. Castiel was the one who had been redeemed, time and time again. He was the one who deserved to be saved, who should be granted salvation. Meanwhile, Dean was nothing more than the scum on the Earth’s shoe. He deserved nothing near Castiel, and his power and grace. Dean deserved to die alone, or maybe just die. Castiel did not.

That brought him back to the first question. Why did Castiel love Dean? Of all humans to choose from, why choose this man? This sinner who kept sinning. Castiel didn’t understand love, because if he did.. He would never have chosen to love Dean. 

A door creaked open loudly, jerking Dean away from his thoughts. “Cas, wait!” The large oak door was closing, fast, Castiel’s raven head disappearing behind it. 

Dean flew forward, his hand outstretched before wrenching open the entryway, and darting outside. Low and behold, rain poured down, soaking him instantly. “Come back inside, Cas.” He grabbed his best friend’s trenchcoat, tugging him backward. “C’mon.”

“No, Dean.”

“Why not?” Great. And now he was whining. Perfect.

“I am not a fool, Dean Winchester. I know that my feelings were wrong. Unrequited and wrong. I also know that this has ruined things between us. We can no longer associate. I understand. I will make this less, how you say ‘awkward’, for the both of us, and leave.” While Castiel’s face was seemingly hardened, his eyes were blotchy, and Dean assumed he had been crying.

“Don’t leave. Don’t do this, Cas.”

“Why? Why would I continue my residence where I am clearly no longer wanted, or needed.”

“Why would you say that? We need you.”

“I am a human now, Dean. I am of no use to your brother, nor yourself. Please. Just let me go.” His voice was pleading with Dean, begging him to allow himself to leave.

“Fine. If you don’t want to stay, I can’t force you to.” On the outside, Dean was shrugging, pretending as though his heart wasn’t breaking on the inside. He knew that he could make Cas stay, with the help of three small words. Despite his need, and how much he wanted to, he couldn’t bring himself to admit it. He was in love with Castiel, angel of the lord. Castiel, the angel he didn’t deserve. 

“Goodbye Dean.” Swallowing hard, Dean relaxed his grip on Castiel’s coat. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, but it was too late. Dean shook his head, pushing his way back into the bunker. “What?” he snapped, feeling two pairs of eyes on him.

“Where’s Cas? You two fight it out?” Despite the fact that he was just trying to help, Dean had never wanted to punch Sam as much as he did in that moment. 

“He’s gone.” Dean said simply, with a shake of his head. 

“What do you mean ‘gone’?” The younger Winchester asked. 

“What do you think? He took off. And why wouldn’t he?” Without meaning to, Dean had just brought out the inner moody teenager inside of himself. And like the teenager he was, he turned and went into his room, plugged in his headphones, and downed half a bottle of whiskey.


	3. The Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean struggles to deal with Cas' leaving. Sam tries to help him out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's been like literally months since I have updated, and I want to apologize. I got swept up in my other fic (Just Like That) and I got away from this one. I think there's only going to be one or two more chapters after this one, just to tie things up in a nice little bow. All comments and kudos are very much appreciated!

Dean had been in a rut for the past week. Ever since Cas’ abrupt departure, Dean had found himself with only the company of his old friend, alcoholism. Sam and Kevin had been walking on eggshells, knowing the only thing they could do was keep out of his way. The 8th day without Cas found Dean in the kitchen, rummaging for any booze left over from his previous rampages.

“Hey, Dean?” The older Winchester could hear the concern in his younger brother’s voice, and it felt like a stab to the gut.

“What?” He hadn’t meant to snap at Sam, honestly. Despite the frustration in his brother’s voice, Sam seemed unfazed.

He ran his fingers through his long hair worriedly. “When’s the last time you actually _ate_ something?”

Dean shrugged, making to go back to his room, when there was suddenly Sam in front of him. “Sit down, Dean.”

Knowing that fighting would just be pointless, he obliged, sinking into the nearest chair. Sam began bustling about the kitchen, putting toast into the toaster and starting a pot of coffee. “Kevin’s making a supply run so I’ll make some eggs or something when he gets back.” He slid into the seat across from Dean.

Dean made a noncommittal noise, tapping his fingers on the table. “Not hungry.” His eyes were fixed on an old stain on the table.

Sam gave an exasperated sigh. “Look, Dean, I get you’re upset about Cas-”

“I’m not.” Dean didn’t have to look up to see the bitchface Sam was sporting.

“Please,” he scoffed. “You’ve been sulking since the minute he walked out.” With a sigh, he softened his tone. “Dean, I get it.”

“Oh, and what exactly do you _get_?” Dean challenged.

“Do you really want to me to say it?” The older man gave him a look, almost daring him to finish the thought. “You’re in love with him.” Before he could object, Sam plowed on. “But you realized it too late. And now you’re… I don’t know… Scared? Because you think you blew it? Or maybe it’s because he’s a guy? Or maybe it’s because of your idiotic self-loathing? Maybe you just think you don’t deserve him. Which is, of course, complete crap.”

Dean swallowed hard, not meeting Sam’s gaze. “I can’t do this.” He stood quickly, fleeing the room. Ignoring the cries of “Dean!”, he sped towards the front door. He flung it open, stopping short at the sight before him.

Castiel was standing outside, clutching his side. His face was as white as a sheet, a stark contrast from his raven hair. Though all Dean could see was the blood stemming from Cas’ ripped shirt. For a moment, Dean was struck speechless. “C-”

**He was cut short as Cas collapsed into his arms. Blood dripping from his mouth in a steady flow, he muttered a weak, “Hello Dean.”**


	4. Lightning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean and Cas finally talk.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well. This is the last chapter. I hope you all have enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! If you enjoyed it, be sure to check out my latest fic, Just Like That. Also, I have a tumblr: hisfallencastiel.tumblr.com where you can check out more of my stuff. Anyway... Enjoy the final installation of The Third Ingredient.

Dean sitting beside Cas’ bed, just watching him. Sam had already made several comments about how creepy he was being, but Dean had ignored him. If the person you may or may not be in love with shows up at your front door bleeding to death, you have permission to watch them while they sleep. Dean was pretty sure, at least.

Anyway, Sam came into the room to check on the two of them (he had started do so so every other hour) and paused when he caught sight of Dean. The man in question had his head in his hands. “Damn it, Cas. What the hell happened to you, man?”

“How’s he doing?” Sam said from his place in the doorway.

Dean jumped in spite of himself. Clearing his throat, he turned back to Cas. “Still unconscious. But he’s still alive so that’s something.”

“So…” Sam looked unsure. “When he wakes up… Are you going to talk to him?”

“That’s the plan. Figure out what the hell happened.” He grumbled.

“No…” The younger Winchester sighed. “I mean… About what we were talking about this morning…”

“Oh,” Dean said softly, tracing his thumb over the back of his other hand. “No.”

“Dean-”

“I said no, Sam.”

“Why?”

“Because.” He stood quickly, knocking over his chair loudly, though he didn’t seem to notice or care. “Because I don’t feel anything for him!”

“You know that’s a lie, Dean.”

He moved towards Sam. “Fine. You want the damn truth?”

“Yes.”

“I’m in love with him! I think part of me always has been. Ever since he pulled me out of hell… I think a part of me has always _belonged_ to him.” Dean’s tone was softer now, though his mouth remained in a tight frown.

“Then why don’t you go after him?” Sam sounded genuinely confused.

“Because I’m _me_! Everyone I have ever gotten close to has been killed, or worse. _I’m poison_. And one day he’ll realize that. God, Sam, staying away from him is one kind of pain… But to know what it feels like to be with him and have it taken away… I think it would kill me.”

“Dean…” Sam pinched the bridge of his nose. “Cas wouldn’t just leave you.”

“He’ll realize he deserves more, Sam. So when he does… I’d rather not to be around to see it.” Dean sounded so broken, so defeated.

“But you do love him?”

“Yeah. And if I could, I would spend every last day of my life proving it.”

“Then why don’t you?” This time it was not Sam who spoke, but Cas, his voice a rough gravelly sound.

“I’m gonna… Go check on Kevin.” Sam ducked out of the room at an almost comical pace.

Dean stood in silence for several seconds. “You never answered my question.”

He nodded, moving over to the chair beside Cas. He would probably need it, if they were going to get through this talk. “And what was that?” Denial was Dean’s strong suit… Why not use it?

Cas just shook his head. “You know exactly what my question was, Dean.”

“Fine. Maybe I just don’t want to answer it.”

“Fine. Then answer this one; do you really return my feelings for you, Dean?”

Swallowing hard, Dean studied his hands. He found he could no longer meet Castiel’s eyes. “Yes.”

“Then why don’t you want to be with me?” Cas didn’t sound angry, but instead he just seemed sad. And that’s when it hit him. As much as he didn’t think he deserved Cas, the fallen angel thought just the same.

“Because I could spend a thousand lifetimes trying to mean something, trying to be worth a damn, and I would still never deserve you.” Dean stood, moving away to pace at the end of the bed.

“How can you say that?” Now Cas was beside him, one hand on his shoulder, and Dean couldn’t help but melt into his touch.

“People in my general vicinity usually end up dead, sometimes more than once. And why do you think that is, Cas? What’s the one common factor? Me. It’s me. I’m poison, Cas.”

Cas stared at him, his eyes boring holes into Dean’s surely tattered soul. “Then I guess I better find an antidote.”

Dean laughed in spite of himself. “Did you just-” He shook his head. “Careful, Cas. You might hurt yourself, making jokes like that.”

“If it makes you smile, it’s worth every last bit of pain.”

“Why?” Dean couldn’t help but ask.

“Because I love you.” Cas said it so honestly, as though he meant it with every last bit of him.

“Do you mean it?” He felt vulnerable, as though he were back in hell, laid out with his soul bared, every last piece of him exposed. He wanted to shrink away from Castiel’s touch, but the thought of the fallen angel leaving was even worse.

Castiel moved closer, one step then another and another until the were only inches from one another. “You tell me.” He said, before pressing his lips to Dean’s.

Cas tasted like lightning, an untouchable force that Dean didn’t have the power to resist. His lips, which looked like they had never seen the business end of a tube of chapstick, were soft and pliant against his.

His arms gripped Castiel tightly, as the angel’s hand cupped Dean’s cheek, the other on his neck. Unfortunately for the two, they were both human, and needed air eventually. They broke apart, panting slightly, and Dean felt himself smile. “Yeah, yeah, you meant it.”

They were still in each other’s arms, grinning goofily, when Sam showed up. “Uh… Okay… I see you two worked everything out.”

“You bet.” Dean captured Cas’ lips again.

“Um, yeah, not to be a buzzkill or anything, but how exactly did you get stabbed, Cas?” Sam said awkwardly, rocking on the balls of his feet.

He glanced down at himself, as though he had forgotten all about the previous day’s events. “These two men tried to mug me. I told them I didn’t have anything but… They didn’t believe me.”

“So they stabbed you?” Dean asked.

“No. They tried to. I held my own until their three friends showed up, and I only just got away.”

Dean downright smirked at Sam. “You hear that, Sammy? My _boyfriend_ fought _five_ guys and got away with _only_ a stab wound. Beat that.” He smiled down at Cas, linking his hand with the angel’s. Poison or not, he and Cas could do this. **They would make it, or die trying.**


End file.
